


Though storm clouds mask your beloved moon

by Beleriandings



Series: Salvage [3]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Found Family, Gen, Kidfic, Series 03 Fix-It: Children of Earth (Torchwood), Storytelling, fairytales - Freeform, space folklore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:53:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27704434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beleriandings/pseuds/Beleriandings
Summary: On a dark and stormy night, Jack tells Anwen a very, very old story.
Relationships: Gwen Cooper/Rhys Williams, Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Series: Salvage [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2047811
Comments: 18
Kudos: 49





	Though storm clouds mask your beloved moon

Sometimes, in their little house on the coast, there were storms. It was a fact of life out here by the ocean, and one that Jack was used to from his childhood, though of course Boeshane storms were much different to Welsh ones. But only in some respects; it was familiar enough when the wind howled and rattled the roofs, the rain lashed against the walls. As it began to get dark the power had gone out; that was a familiar occurrence from home too, their little colony world with its infrastructure that no one with any real power or money cared about enough to maintain.

And there was another thing that was the same throughout history, Jack thought: children would always, always be afraid of dark and stormy nights.

Sure enough, Anwen clung to her mother’s legs in their pokey living room with its two crammed-in sofas, sobbing her little three-year-old heart out. Gwen was pregnant again and reaching her wit’s end, stroking Anwen’s hair and trying to comfort her to no avail; Anwen would only start crying again, as thunder boomed and rolled and lightning flashed outside the windows again and again. Rhys was setting up more candles while Ianto had left to try to see if perhaps there was a fuse that had been tripped, a vain hope perhaps, but that was the way they worked.

The storm was at its height as Ianto came back in, taking off his sodden raincoat at the door. “Nothing” he said, taking off his wet boots. “We’ll just have to wait until it comes back on.” He stood in the middle of the room, wincing himself a little as the lightning flashed, leaning down to Anwen. “Would you like any help...?”

Jack knew that Ianto was offering to be kind; he still didn’t always find it easy, knowing what Anwen liked. Of course, Jack also knew that Anwen did in fact love Ianto, much more than Ianto realised, but that was for a different day.

Instead Jack sighed, gesturing for them all to listen to him. “Sofa” he said. “All of you.”

“Jack” said Gwen, rolling her eyes, “what...”

“Anwen?” said Jack, kneeling down to her height. “How would you like an extra special treat?”

“Want that noise to st-stop!” she sobbed, clinging onto Gwen and hiccuping, shaking with sobs.

“I know” said Jack, eyes looking up to meet Gwen’s, silently asking permission. Gwen nodded, rolling her eyes fondly It was a familiar back-and-forth now; Jack was still cautious around Anwen, still afraid that getting too close might ruin her young life, far too soon. He was still afraid, but determined not to let the fear get in the way of what he’d been building, these last few years, this little family that he loved and that loved him.

Anwen stopped crying for a moment, giving him a perplexed, questioning pout. Jack had to laugh; Anwen had Gwen’s eyes and Rhys’s nose, but that expression was one Ianto made all the time. It looked like she was getting all his mannerisms, which was adorable. “What?” she said, peeking out to him with a last sob. “Uncle Jack?”

“C’mon” he said, scooping her up under her arms and settling her on his lap; he’d done this before, years and decades ago, and you never really forgot how. As he did, Ianto sat down beside him, settling on his right and leaning his head against Jack’s shoulder. Rhys sat down against the left arm of the sofa, Gwen wedging herself in between him and Jack, leaning back against Rhys, his hand flat against the pregnant swell of her belly rubbing soft circles there.

Anwen was going to get a little sibling soon; they were all both delighted and rather terrified by the prospect, but they were going to do all they could for their family’s new addition.

Jack frowned, remembering something. “A story” he told Anwen. “But this is a very special story… a story from when I was a little boy, back where I came from.”

Anwen’s eyes widened. “You were little?”

“Hey, are you calling me old?” grinned Jack, booping Anwen’s nose. That wrung a tiny, hesitant giggle out of her, even though she still darted a glance back towards the window, squishing up her face in an incipient sob as lightning flashed again, covering her eyes against Jack’s chest at the burst of thunder that followed.

“Hey, hey” said Jack, rubbing her back. “It’s okay! Listen, I’m gonna tell you a very special story. It’s the story of the little pink moon.”

Anwen raised her head, giving him the most sceptical look a three-year-old could manage. “Moon’s not pink!”

“Not on this planet” said Jack. “Where I come from, there are two moons. One’s white, like ours. But the other one’s much smaller, and it looks pink when it appears in the sky.”

Anwen just screwed up her face at that, clearly not understanding.

But Jack only smiled. “So, here we go” he said. “You ready?”

“ _I_ am” said Gwen. “I want to hear this.”

“Me too” said Rhys, looking intrigued but a little dubious.

Ianto merely silently squeezed Jack’s arm, settling down closer against him.

Jack nodded. “Once there was a little girl” he said, running his hand through Anwen’s hair, thumbing a tear off her cheek. “She lived by the sea, on a rocky coastline, in a little house with all her family; her parents and aunts and uncles. She loved them all very much, but the one she loved best was her little brother. One day, the little girl and her brother were out on the bay, sailing in their little boat the way they liked to do. They were looking for sea-grass and pearls when a terrible storm started to roll in from the ocean. The little girl knew what to do when there was a storm; she sailed the boat inland, making for her home, and her brother helped her as best he could, though he was very young. But they were both very small, and the wind was very strong, and the waves were higher than their house on the sea shore. And their little boat got turned over by the force of the storm, and both children were pulled beneath the waves.”

“Jack-” interrupted Gwen, her eyes nervously on Anwen, who was staring up at him now with a tiny, scared “o” face, and eyes as wide as saucers. “Is this going to give her nightmares?”

Jack shook his head and smiled at Gwen, gesturing for her to trust him before continuing.

“The girl got washed up on the sea shore, and her parents found her there and took her home, but they didn’t find her little brother. So the next day when the storm was over, the search parties went out, combing the beach and the waters of the bay for the little boy. There were so many people there looking for him, that the sun came out from behind the mist to see what all the fuss was about. And the first thing the sun saw was the little girl, standing on the shore because she was too young to go out with the search parties.

And the bright sun saw the little girl crying because she was unable to help, and said to her, “ _why do you look so sad?_ _It’s day time, you should be playing on the beach_.” And the little girl said to the bright sun, “ _well, I’ve lost my little brother, you see. How can I play on the beach, when he’s gone?_ ” And the sun took pity on the little girl who looked so sad and lonely, and they said, “ _I’ll do the best I can to help_.” And so, the sun shone down on the waves with a bright, warm light that burned away all the mist, so that when the search parties went out that day they could see right down to the clear bottom of the ocean. But though they could see every fish and rock and shell beneath the waves, they saw no sign of her little brother.

And so, the girl went back to being sad again. That night she stood at the window crying, because she couldn’t sleep while the night search parties were out. As she stood there the moon rose. Now this, of course, was the big moon, with their pale white face and their clear silver light. The big moon said to the little girl, “w _hy do you look so sad? Night time is meant for sleeping, not tears_.” And the little girl said to the big moon, “ _well, I’ve lost my little brother, you see. How can I sleep when he’s gone?_ ” And the big moon took pity on the little girl who looked so sad and lonely, and said “ _I’ll do the best I can to help_.” And they shone their light down onto all the sea, so that the night search parties would be able to have light to see by. But still, the search parties found no sign of her little brother.

The next night, the little girl couldn’t stand it anymore; she couldn’t stay in the house while the search parties went out, all on her own. So she ran out of the house and along the breakwater, inland to the sand dunes where the sand pears grew. She climbed a sand pear tree, like she always had when she and her brother had come to pick them, and curled up in the branches and started to cry. Her tears dropped to the ground at the bottom of the tree. She cried so much she made a whole pool of tears, and in it she saw the reflection of the little pink moon, just peeking up above the horizon. Now, the little pink moon doesn’t appear as much as the big white moon, so when it does you know it’s for an extra special occasion; it never stays for long either, before going on its way. And she looked at the little pink moon, reflected in her pool of tears, and it spoke to her, and it said “ _why do you look so sad? You’ll drown this tree with your tears, and there’ll be no more sand pears!_ ” and the little girl said “ _well, I’ve lost my little brother, you see._ _And how can I enjoy sand pears when he’s gone?_ ” And the little pink moon took pity on the little girl who looked so sad and lonely, and said “ _I’ll do the best I can to help_.”

But the thing about the little pink moon, is that they aren’t in the sky for very long at all; they just touch the horizon, before dipping back down below it again, and their light is very faint, and quickly gone, and can’t possibly illuminate a whole ocean bright enough to search by.

But still, the moon shone as bright as they could, to try to guide the little girl back safely home herself at the very least. And the little girl was grateful that the little pink moon was trying, even if they couldn’t do much, so she started to walk home while the moon’s light lasted. She took the path along the bay, because it was low-tide and it would be quicker to cut across.

But as soon as she got there, she found something strange and rare: a cave that was all lit up pink, at exactly the right angle to shine light inside it. She’d never seen anything like this before; in the lights of the bright sun and the big moon which hung high in the sky the cave was always dark, but the pink moon on the horizon lit it up at just the right angle. And so, her sadness momentarily forgotten, she went inside.”

Jack paused, looking around at them, realising two things. First of all, that Anwen had fallen asleep while he talked, peacefully sucking her thumb and cocooned in his arms.

Secondly, that Gwen, Rhys, and Ianto were all leaning in, listening rapt and silent to his story.

“Well?!?” said Gwen.

“What was in there?” said Rhys.

“You can’t stop there!” said Ianto.

Jack smiled, stroking Anwen’s hair and settling closer against Ianto beside him. “...And there, curled up on the floor fast asleep, was her little brother. He’d been there the whole time, eating shellfish and sea-grass from the ocean. He’d been trapped by the high tide during the day and couldn’t get back, but the little pink moon’s light had been just the right angle to show her what she needed to see, though it wasn’t very bright at all.” Jack smiled. “And so, she woke her brother up and took him home. But as she went, she made sure to thank the little pink moon for all their help. And each time she picked sand pears from the tree she’d think of the little pink moon, and how it had helped her when the sun and the big moon couldn’t.”

Jack fell silent, listening to the hush that had fallen in the room with a gentle smile. “And that’s it” he said, shrugging as best he could.

“It had a happy ending” said Gwen, smiling too.

“Of course” said Jack, drawing slightly closer to Ianto only half-consciously, as he thought about the story; he remembered he’d thought about that story a lot, with bitterness and hurt, after Gray had been taken: that had been the day his childhood had ended. Still, it was so incredibly long ago now, and there was no help for it. He sighed and looked out the window. “Hey, the storm seems to be passing.”

“We’ll have power again soon” said Ianto, squeezing Jack’s hand silently.

“Let me take Anwen and put her to bed” said Rhys, looking like he didn’t quite know what he’d just witnessed but was all the happier for it. She didn’t wake, as Rhys picked her up and pressed a kiss to her forehead, Ianto getting up to and going to help Gwen tidy up before joining Jack again on the stairs.

It was late, and they all needed to sleep; no time for tears, thought Jack, as he let Ianto lead him sleepily by the hand up to their bedroom.

By morning, when Jack woke up with Ianto curled close to him, it was to a hazy, pastel pink and blue sunrise outside the window, of the kind that only comes after rain.

The storm, he thought as he pressed a kiss to Ianto’s sleeping forehead, had passed for now.

**Author's Note:**

> Somewhat inspired by Caleb's Der Katzenprinz story from Critical Role! Or at least, impulsively written in the middle of the night because I listened to that episode earlier and went "ohhhhhhh, in-universe fairytales!!! That is what I need to write, right now immediately!!!" ...Thus this exists. It's set vaguely in the same universe as my story [But at least the war is over](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27421630), though a few years later obviously.  
> The title is a lyric from [Lullaby for a Stormy Night](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mlmhMS_luX8) by Vienna Teng, which was the other big inspiration for this, as well as the (very minimal) Boeshane Peninsula worldbuilding I came up with while writing Just This Once.  
> Please let me know what you think, and/or find me on tumblr @ultraviolet-eucatastrophe!


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